All Is Love
by LaVioleBlanche
Summary: Chris doen't leave- he cures Wikus and two years later, they must deal with what they started. Slash! wheee
1. Chapter 1

Holy shite on a fook sandwich, man. I have typed up three new first chapters of three new fics in two days. I am a beast. So, this new D-9 fic started out as plotless prawn pr0n, but somehow it mutated into an actual story! Please review; it keeps the voices in my head happy.

The Basic Plot So Far: At the last second, Chris decides to use the fuel he has to cure Wikus instead of making him wait three years (How? You ask. I DON'T KNOW, HE'S A MAGICAL SCIENCE-PRAWN.) Of course, this means that Chris doesn't get to leave Earth. Also unfortunately, Wikus can't just waltz on out of District 9 (the whole "District 10"thing got postponed for a while because MNU was still searching for Wikus), so he can't go home. He stays with Christopher and Oliver (and continues to be an ungrateful bastard) for two years.

Unteeeeellll…..

"Mr. Wikus, wake up! Wake up!" The kid's rainforest frog voice shattered the human's tranquil darkness. He groaned and rolled over on his cot.

"Fook, kid, how many times've I told you not to-"

"Wikus, you need to hide," Christopher's deeper, sterner clicks came from somewhere by the door. "Quickly."

"What?" Wikus sat up blearily. "What is it?"

The alien peeked swiftly through the shabby curtains he'd put up a while ago. "MNU operatives and soldiers are stopping at all the houses. I feared it was another raid, but my neighbor says that your company has finally given up on finding you and decided to go ahead with the relocation."

"Not 'my' company. Not anymore," he rubbed his eyes, then froze. "Wait. Relocation? To District 10?"

"Yes."

"Fook," his eyes grew wide. "That's not good. Fook. They'll find me."

Christopher turned to meet his gaze, looking unfathomable and exhausted, and Wikus wondered if he'd been up all night again, keeping watch over the human. "We will think of… something. Now, you must hide. They're almost here." He crouched and opened the hatch that led to the dormant ship.

Wikus obediently dropped down into the hole, muttering something along the lines of, "Fooking prawn, think of something quick."

Standing in the blue-lit shadows of the vessel, the human heard the front door open, heard Christopher clack out a polite greeting. He heard the MNU worker (_a woman's voice, that's odd, she sounds familiar_) respond in kind.

"Hullo, Mr. Johnson. I'm from MNU; I'm here to serve an eviction notice." She spoke in the same tone that all operatives had been trained to use, loud and clear and cheery, as if they were speaking to a slightly deaf child. Something was off about her voice, though. She sounded… edgy, almost brisk, like she didn't really think Chris was as stupid as he was supposed to be.

Wikus strained to hear better. Who was she? She sounded so…

The mystery woman continued. "In two days, MNU will be moving all of you to a new home. District 10."

"Two days," Christopher said dully, and Wikus could almost hear the sag in the prawn's shoulders.

"Here," the woman offered. "Have a pamphlet. See? It's got pictures."

"I have one already," the alien replied tiredly.

The operative persisted, her tone becoming even stranger, laced with some unidentifiable undertone. "No, you should take _this_ one; it's newer. It's got better pictures. Take it, please."

Chris must have caught some hint or seen something in her face, for he accepted the brochure without further protest. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Be sure to look over it, Mr. Johnson. Goodbye." With that, the odd female and her silent escorts departed.

Wikus heard the door close and, after a moment, Christopher's voice announcing, "They're gone. You can come back up; you should see this."

Curious and confused, the human pushed the trapdoor open and climbed out. "What was wrong with her? She sounded a bit on the turn. Who was she? And what was so fooking important about a pamphlet?"

To answer the barrage of questions, the prawn held out the folded paper he'd been given.

Wikus took the brochure and stared at it.

"But it's the same," he protested. "it's the same stupid thing ass before; why would-"

"Open it," Chris suggested.

Frowning, the ex-operative thumbed back the cover page of the glossy paper. Inside was a note, scrawled in familiar handwriting across an image of idyllic tents.

_Wikus—_

_I can't explain right now, but I'm going to help you and your prawn friend escape before MNU moves everyone to District 10. Be at the west side of the fence, by the broken bulldozer, at 2am tonight. Please trust me. I want to help._

_--Tania_

"It is very likely a trap," Christopher said after allowing Wikus a moment of shocked silence. "Then again, I don't know her as you do. Would she be the type to arrange or agree to such a thing?"

"No," Wikus said automatically, then sighed. "I-I don't know. Maybe. But, I mean, what choices've we got? We either go tonight and maybe get killed, or we wait for MNU to evict everyone and definitely get killed." He paused in consideration. "Probably dissected first, actually."

"Charming," Chris clicked wryly. "So you feel that we should trust your wife's offer."

_My wife_. The sudden realization dawned that Wikus hadn't thought of Tania as his wife, hadn't thought of her at all, really, since that night when he and Christopher…

He shook himself. "Yeah. Yeah, I think it's probably our best shot."

Chris looked at him consideringly for a beat, then nodded in agreement.

"Tonight it is, then."


	2. Escape from D9catraz

Previously in this fic: SHIT. WENT. DOWN. That is all.

It never really got completely dark in the district, even at night. There were always a few burning houses here and there, and the ever-present light of Johannesburg illuminating the horizon. As such, Christopher and Wikus had a pretty good view of their surroundings as they made their way to the meeting site. Chris stopped when the bulldozer was visible and lowered Oliver from his shoulders, setting the boy on the ground and speaking quietly to him.

"You remember what I told you to do?"

Oliver nodded dutifully. "Hide and watch you and Mr. Wikus and wait for you to call me."

"And if something bad happens to me or Wikus?" His father prompted, glancing back at the fence.

"Run away as fast as I can and go to Samuel's house, but don't let anyone see me," the child recited. Christopher patted him on the head and clicked approvingly.

"Go on, then."

Oliver ducked under a pile of tires, his mottled green carapace camouflaging him easily in the dappled shadows cast by the pre-dawn light. Wikus coughed and Chris stood up to follow him. When they were within a dozen feet of the abandoned machinery, the prawn held out an arm, halting the human.

"I should go first," he clicked quietly. "If this does turn out to be a trap, I would prefer that I be captured rather than you."

Wikus hated that, Christopher's "protect Wikus/sacrifice self" impulse that seemed to have become as instinctive as the need to protect his kid, but the human nodded anyway. His eyes were drawn involuntarily to the alien's form as he strode past, to the sharp, jutting hips and smooth, sleek exoskeleton aglow in the firelight of a nearby trash barrel. That was something else he hated: the fact that Chris seemed capable of completely derailing any train of thought Wikus had with the simple act of walking or stretching or any number of motions that set the human's brain on fire. The most annoying part was that Christopher appeared to be utterly unaware of this effect.

_Fuck_, Wikus thought angrily at himself. _This is no fucking time to get hormonal. That was a year ago; it's not happening again._ His body disagreed, but he managed to beat back the urge to tackle Chris to the ground and ravish him. _Fuck, fuck, I thought all the prawn hormones were supposed to be gone by now. It's been two fucking years! _He was so caught up in his internal rant that he didn't realize Chris was gesturing for him to approach until the alien hissed his name.

"Wikus! What's wrong? Can you hear me?"

"Yeah! I, uh- yeah. Right." The former MNU agent hurried over and ducked down in the flickering shadows next to Christopher. "I was just, uh, reminiscing. Y'know, two fookin' years in this place."

"I understand." The prawn glanced toward the distant shacks. "I cannot really say that I will miss this place, but it has been quite an experience. One which I hope never to repeat."

"Yeah, I'm with you there," Wikus agreed, grinning, then froze. "Look- someone's coming."

A large, black car approached slowly, headlights off, and came to a halt on the other side of the fence. Christopher crouched defensively, shielding Wikus from possible gunfire.

The window slid open. Wikus felt Chris tense.

"Well, are you two coming or not? Hurry up!" Tania's voice rang out urgently, her expectant face peering out at them.

Wikus sighed in relief and started to stand up, but the alien held him back. "Wait."

Christopher stood up, a towering, protective force, and called out, "Open the doors, please."

"What's that?" Tania asked, tilting her head. "Sorry, I'm still only on beginner Prawn."

"He-he wants you to open the doors," Wikus said. "We need to know this isn't a set-up." _This is so surreal_.

"Oh, of course. Right." She swung out of the vehicle and pulled the doors open one by one, revealing a pleather-padded interior that was mercifully free of gunmen or bombs.

Christopher's antennae twitched back and forth in consideration a moment before he nodded and turned back in the direction they'd come from.

"Oliver!" He called. "Run home!"

"What?" Wikus stared up at the tall being quizzically. "But it's not a trap; why would you-"

Oliver came scurrying over and grabbed onto his father's leg, trilling happily. Wikus looked at Chris for an explanation.

"It was a code," the alien said, lifting the child in his arms. "If I were held at gunpoint, say, and ordered to tell him that it was safe to come out, he would have known it was a trap and run away."

"Sneaky fooking prawn," the human said admiringly, even affectionately.

Christopher's expression was unreadable, but his mouthparts curled and wove silently for a second before he turned away. "Quickly, let's go."

The fugitives ducked through one of the ever-present holes in the chain-link divide between District 9 and the rest of the world.

Tania smiled and came forward to wrap her arms around Wikus, then stepped back and turned to address Christopher. Wikus blinked in surprise. _That's it?_ He'd been expecting a big, dramatic scene, lots of kissing and crying. Not expecting so much as dreading, really. He had no idea how to face her, how to explain everything, how to tell her that he…

…he was no longer in love with her.

"Hello again, Mr. Johnson." Tania spoke to Chris with surprising ease. "And hello…"

"Oliver," Wikus supplied vaguely.

"Oliver," she repeated, shaking hands with the little prawn. "Well," she stepped back and glanced around. "We'd better go before we're noticed." She climbed back into the driver's seat.

Feeling oddly numb, Wikus sat next to her, Chris and Oliver clambering into the back seat. They pulled away, leaving the District behind them.

After ten minutes of unbearable silence, Oliver couldn't contain himself, and he began babbling in the excited manner of children on their way to a completely new environment.

"Where are we going? Is it far away? How big is it? Is it inside or outside? Do you have an inside toilet? I've heard about those. Do you have one at your house? Are you rich? Do you have food at your house? I've never been in a car before; this is a car, right? Are there kids where we're going? Do we get to sleep in beds? Father, look look look out the window, look at that! What was that?"

"Little One, settle down," Christopher admonished quietly, glancing at the humans in the front seats.

"No, please, don't shush him," Tania said, smiling wistfully. "I like hearing kids talk, even if I can't understand a word they're saying. I love kids."

"Tania…" Wikus began, but she cut him off with a shake of her head.

"Later."


	3. Goodnight My Prawn

Bruuugghhhhh…my brain. It is filled with two things: angst and smut. Unfortunately, it does not provide much in the way of plot, so this chapter took a while to write. I did really enjoy writing Tania, though. She's gone all feminist, proactive, "down-with-the-bad-guys". I like it, but some of you may not. I dunno. Let me know what you think!

The house they pulled up to was bigger than the one Wikus and Tania had owned together, and looked twice as expensive. It had a long driveway lined with shrubs and trees, making it more secluded and safer from casual observers.

"How did you…pay for this place?" Wikus asked as they climbed out of the sleek black car.

"My father." Tania half-smiled at his look of surprise. "He died last year. Left me _everything_. I invested some, saved some, and still had enough to buy this place and a house in the Isle of Wight. I started 'volunteering' for MNU a few months ago. I've been sneaking food and medicine in to help out some of the prawn families. They're the ones that helped me to find out if you were alive and where you were. Of course, everyone else figures you were killed by the prawns, so they assumed I joined MNU for revenge."

Wikus gaped. Oliver ran excitedly over to a tree which held weaver-birds' nests, his father following him watchfully.

"C'mon, now, let's go inside. I don't know about you lot, but I'm exhausted." Tania scaled the steps onto the veranda and held the door open for her guests. Christopher entered cautiously, followed by his ecstatic child. Wikus trailed behind, still processing everything he'd just been told.

The house's interior was just as tastefully wealthy-looking as its exterior was, with plush carpets and various paintings and pictures on the white walls. Tania led her entourage past a stainless steel and marble kitchen and up a flight of stairs to the second floor. A long hallway extended to either side, lined with doors and handsome Blackwood paneling.

"Well, I've got rooms set up for each of you," their hostess said, brushing back her short-cropped blonde hair. "Mine's at the far end on the right, next to the bathroom, if you need anything. Wikus, yours is the first door on the left. Mr. Johnson-"

"I think," Wikus interrupted, glancing sideways at Chris, "I think he'd prefer it if you called him Christopher." The prawn nodded and Tania smiled again.

"Christopher, then. Your room is just next to Wikus'. And if Oliver wants, the room at the end of the hall was originally meant as a nursery, so-"

"I could have my own room?" Oliver trilled excitedly, bouncing in place.

"That may not be a good idea," Chris began hesitantly, and the child's antennae drooped.

"Ah, come on, Chris, let the kid have his own room," Wikus wheedled. The alien relented, and Oliver darted down the hallway to inspect his new chambers. Christopher followed, ducking to avoid a collision with the light fixture that hung from the ceiling.

Wikus and Tania stood in the hall, carefully examining their shoes or the walls. After a long moment, he managed to clear his throat and speak.

"Tania, I- thanks for doing this. I know that it can't have been easy on you."

She regarded him with calm, cool eyes, and shrugged. "It wasn't, at first. I was an absolute wreck for a while. Then…" She looked away, remembering. "Then I got tired of being lied to. By my father. By the police. By the company. By you."

"Me? But I-" He started to protest, and she turned back to him, gaze level.

"Wikus, you told me you were helping the prawns. Trying to keep them safe and healthy. I looked up the tapes of your field operations. You set fire to houses full of babies, Wikus. You laughed about it." She scoffed and folded her arms. "There was so much I didn't know about you."

Wikus cringed at her bitter tone, her words biting deep. "I…yes. I did sick shit. I didn't realize what I was doing then. I didn't understand."

"Neither did I," Tania said softly. "That's why I joined MNU. I wanted to know what they were like. The prawns, I mean. I expected to learn that they'd, I don't know, eaten you like Koobus or burned you to death or something. They all knew about the stuff you'd done; they all knew _who_ you were. And guess what I learned? Not only were you still alive, but one of them had taken you in. Protected you from MNU. They'd forgiven you."

This time it was Wikus who looked away in memory. _No, not just forgiven. It was more than that, with Christopher._ The other prawns tolerated him, but Chris…the way the alien had looked at him sometimes, even before that night- there was something other than simple forgiveness in his tawny eyes.

Tania continued. "That was when I decided to help you escape. They forgave you; so could I, even if I- couldn't really be in love with you again." She sighed and let her arms drop. "So, there it is."

Wikus met her gaze and nodded. "Thank you, Tania. So…what do we do now?"

Christopher came back at that moment, having finally gotten Oliver to settle down and go to sleep in the nursery. Wikus couldn't help the faint tremor that shot down his spine when the prawn accidentally brushed against his left arm, the smooth, sharp edges of carapace making goosebumps along his skin.

_The rasp of that shell against his belly, his thighs, as Christopher's hands mapped his fragile body with tender care, running soothing fingers down his sides and back. Soft, untranslatable words of comfort flowed steadily in clicks and taps, endearments that clashed with the filth and hateful curses pouring from the human's mouth._

"Well," Tania said in response to Wikus' question, "I'll go over the plan in greater detail tomorrow, but basically there's a group of scientists in New Zealand that I'm close with; they're offering you sanctuary and equipment in the hopes that you can get in contact with your home world, Christopher."

The prawn's antennae swiveled back in surprise.

"This is… wonderful news," he clicked. "When could we leave?"

"In a few days," she replied after translating. "I have a private jet and a trustworthy pilot."

"We can go home," Christopher said, a distant look in his eyes. "I had almost…I had given up hope that I would ever be able to make contact again." He blinked and looked at Tania. "Thank you."

She smiled. "I hope it works. Right now, we all need a good night's sleep. I'll see you in the morning." She turned and walked away down the hall into her room.

Wikus glanced up at Chris, who was still awestruck.

A thought struck him like an electric volt. Chris and Oliver…going home. Gone. Probably forever. The idea made something in him twist painfully, and he was filled with the urge to press himself against that tall, lanky, foreign-yet-familiar body. To lose the rest of the world one last time. Maybe…maybe he could convince them to stay…No, that wouldn't happen. Not after twenty-two years of torture, violence and repression. Humanity would be lucky if the prawns didn't blow up Earth as they left. Christopher wouldn't be persuaded to give up on his dream for the sake of one lonely, desperate human with no one else to turn to. Wikus blinked rapidly as he realized that his eyes had begun to tear up. _Great, fucking great, gonna cry in the middle of the hallway, in front of Chris, and just when everything's looking up. I should be fucking happy that they're leaving. Fucking prawns_.

His thoughts were interrupted by warm pressure on his cheek. He looked up blearily and Christopher pulled his hand away, looking ashamed.

"I'm sorry," he clicked quietly. "You- your cheek was wet."

"I-I'm just tired," Wikus said sullenly. Chris didn't ask what kind of correlation there was between tiredness and wet cheeks; he had seen the human cry before and had learned not to ask.

The prawn stepped back, looking down. "Well. We, uh, we should-"

"Yeah," Wikus rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. "Yeah, off to bed and all. Been a busy day."

Christopher nodded and stood still for another instant, his eyes flicking across Wikus' face and form, his secondary arms twitching in and out restlessly, before he abruptly turned away. "Good night, Wikus."

"Yeah."

It was going to be a long night.


	4. You Give Prawn A Bad Name

Sooo…update. Spelling error in previous chapter…FIXED! I really hate spelling errors, especially my own. Please continue with the luuurve and support; it is better than toast! And that is saying something.

~*~

Christopher rolled over restlessly on his king-sized mattress, his legs shuffling and kicking at the blankets. He couldn't sleep. It wasn't that the bed wasn't comfortable; it was the comfiest thing he'd slept on in twenty-two years. It was just the agitated state of his mind keeping him up. The prospect of going home, which he'd thought he'd buried, had reared up and filled his thoughts. To walk on the soil of his planet, among the colossal forests of his home…for Oliver to finally see his world, in its entire seven-mooned glory. And yet…his joy was tinged with grief, a nagging shadow at the edge of his mind. They would leave Earth, and the district, and Wikus…

He cringed, his antennae flattening against his head and his eyes closing tightly for an instant.

_Wikus will be fine. Once our kind leave this planet, he will be safe. MNU will have no reason to continue hunting him. He will be free to return to his mate. He can be happy. He can forget…_ Christopher's hands curled involuntarily at the memories of the human as they flew through his mind's eye: their first unpleasant encounter, the surprise break-in, storming the lab, the slow, unwilling building of understanding, sympathy and even trust, the one night-

_Put it from your mind_, he told himself angrily. _There's no point in dwelling on it. He's clearly moved on. So move on._

He sighed heavily and rolled over again, lying on his right side. He lay in contemplative silence for several minutes, trying to will himself to sleep. His eyelids had just begun to droop when his door creaked open. He looked up, expecting to find that his son had come to crawl in with him, and was instead greeted by the sight of Wikus, silhouetted in his doorway. The human stood completely still for a moment, his arms hanging by his sides and his face an obscurity of shadows. He took a step into the room and shut the door behind him.

Christopher tilted his head and let out an inquisitive click. "Is something wrong?"

Wikus didn't answer but made a soft noise in the back of his throat and took another step. His face came into view, his eyes wide and intently focused on Chris, his mouth a dark slash. Christopher was becoming worried.

"Wikus? What is it? Are you in pain? What's happened?"

The human swallowed and glanced down, his stare skittering over the alien's form, sprawled on the bed, legs tangled in the sheets. "I, uh…" his voice was raspy. He ran his tongue across his lips, shuffling forward another few feet until he'd reached the edge of the mattress. "Chris, I--god," he looked down, raking a hand through his hair. "Fook." He took a deep breath and his gaze flicked back up to the prawn's face. He saw Christopher shift uneasily, disconcerted by the sharp gleam in the former MNU worker's eyes.

Pre-dawn light lined the bedding in silver as Wikus knelt on it, his hands brushing down Christopher's legs with ghost-soft touches. Chris shivered.

"W-Wikus?"

The prawn's questioning clicks were cut short when the human slid forward and lay down in one fluid motion, pressing their forms together as he buried his face in Christopher's chest. The alien paused and tilted his head once more in confusion. His logical brain began to postulate that Wikus was doubtless just relieved to finally be free of the district, or that maybe this was some strange human ritual of farewell. The illogical, emotional part of him knew that something was wrong. He started to sit up fully, to ask what was going on, but again Wikus' actions halted him. The human's hot breath whispered against the hard plates of the creature's abdomen and his tongue swiped into one of the sensitive crevices between them. Chris arched reflexively, a shocked rattling sound flying out of him. Wikus moaned in reply and ground his pelvis against the prawn's.

Christopher sat up sharply, pushing Wikus away in spite of the hot curl of electricity that wound around his belly. "_What_ are you _doing_?"

"I thought it was pretty obvious," Wikus rasped, slightly miffed.

"Have you gone mad?" Despite his harsh tone, Chris' eyes were pulled back to the human's form, and he shuddered once again. Wikus took this as a good sign, and he ran the fingertips of his left hand down the alien's narrow stomach. Chris shook himself and grabbed Wikus' hand, maybe a little too hard, halting it before it reached the ochre cloth that covered his hips. "Wikus!"

"What?" The human's voice was petulant, like that of a reprimanded child.

"Why are you doing this? Your mate is three rooms away! Why do you not go to her?" There was anger, confusion, and- was it? –jealousy in the prawn's clicks. The corners of his ember-bright eyes tightened.

"My- Chris, Tania's not- we're not together anymore. We're not in love." Wikus couldn't deny that it had hurt, knowing that she'd done all right without him, but to his surprise it hadn't hurt as much as it probably _should_ have. He'd been all right, too, even if he hadn't realized it.

"I will ask again. Why are you doing this?" The extraterrestrial's tone had a dangerous edge to it, his gaze harsh and scrutinizing.

"I-" Wikus fumbled for words to explain himself, to explain to Chris the terrible emptiness he had to fill—"I just- I _need_…please, Chris, I need to…"

_So that's what it is_, Christopher realized grimly, disappointment clanging hollowly inside him. _His wife rejected him, so he went, in his desperation, to the only other body available. He must know how easily he can manipulate me, how hard it is to say 'no' to him…_The Poleepkwa cursed his emotions; the urge to reach out and welcome the human into his bed was almost overwhelming.

"So," the alien's voice was like a distant drumroll. "I am a replacement; something to prove to your wife that you no longer need her."

Wikus looked genuinely shocked, and Christopher felt his insides wrench with guilt and resentment. The ex-MNU operative shook his head. "It's not like that, Chris, I sw-"

"I do not want to be a release of tension or built-up frustration like-" his voice faltered briefly, then continued sternly. "-like…the other time. A one-night stand, you call it. A quick, easy fuck."

"For fook's sake, Christopher, it's not like that at all-!"

Chris let out the equivalent of a bitter laugh.

"Don't try to convince me that you're doing this for me, either. Using my desires against me could hardly be called doing me a favor."

"I'm doing this because…" Wikus' mind was racing with too many emotions to recognize the meaning behind Chris' words. He swallowed again and persisted. "I'm doing this 'cause I'm- selfish, and, and greedy and scared and I-I don't want you to leave me. Please, Chris, don't leave me. I can't-" his voice cracked and he dropped his head, shaggy hair obscuring his eyes. "I can't…lose you. D'you have any fooking idea what you d-" he choked, biting his lip. Dammit all, he just couldn't bring himself to say what needed to be said. _Don't fucking cry, not again._

Christopher's resolve broke down, as it always did when he and Wikus argued. Somehow, he just couldn't stay mad at the human. He sighed despairingly and reached out a cautious hand to brush back the loose hair from Wikus' face.

"I…thought you would be happy."

"Happy." Wikus said the word blankly, as if it didn't make sense. "Why the fook would I be happy?"

Christopher's antennae flicked in consternation. "Because you are free of the district, soon to be free of MNU, reunited with those you care for. You _should_ be happy. How many times have you spoken of returning to your former life, once we'd left your planet? I would think you'd be more pleased than _I_, not moping about and tormenting me!"

The former field operative sniffed and wiped a palm across one eye. "I-I'm not trying to fooking torment you, I just wanted to-to…" _To try desperately to seduce you into staying here with me, 'cause I'm too pathetic and gutless to just fucking tell you—I don't want you to see how weak I really am. I don't want to beg._ He glanced up miserably, at a loss. "I wasn't trying to hurt you." He knew it wasn't entirely true, and he winced uncomfortably when he saw Chris' eyes soften.

The alien gently ran a hand down Wikus' back, as he had done when the crippling pain of the transformation had made the human sob and scream in helpless agony, and the only comfort available had been the warm touches of a creature that had every reason to hate him. Filled with self-loathing and persistent, residual lust, Wikus curved his spine, arching into the contact. He felt Christopher pause, felt the tension creep back into the prawn's arm. He leaned up urgently and crushed his mouth against Chris' undulating tentacles. He wasn't sure what, exactly, he was trying to prove at this point, but the labrum slid tentatively against his bottom lip, and the powerful being trembled against him, and he stopped caring. He opened his mouth and stroked the tendril with his blunt human tongue. Chris made that lonely, hoarse sound that Wikus had only ever heard from him. The human moaned, his breath catching as a second tendril joined the first, twining in and out, tracing the roof of his mouth.

They broke apart, but remained lying in the same position. Christopher's gaze was drawn to the human's wetly shining lips, slick with spit and the oily, slippery chemical that coated the prawn's mouthparts. Wikus let out a shaky breath, trying not to imagine how those mouthparts had felt on his body, the restrained, feathery touches down his torso that first hurried time. He had to say something, had to break the silence yet again.

"Um."

"We…should discuss this later," the alien clicked quietly before the human could speak. "Once we have both gotten some rest."

"Yeah. That sounds- yeah. Right. Okay." Wikus started to roll away, prepared to stumble back to his room, but they both realized that Chris still had a hand on the former MNU employee's back, holding him in place. "Uhh…"

"Sorry," Christopher pulled his hand away and glanced down, suddenly shy.

Wikus took a breath, released it, and decided to make a gamble. He lay back down, lower body on the mattress, head and shoulders draped across the alien's chest. Christopher only tensed for a moment before relaxing, even putting a hand on the human's spine once more.

"Discuss it later," Wikus agreed sleepily.


	5. The D9 Twist!

D'aaawwww, you guys! I love you all for hanging in there and being so goddamn patient! And to all my new readers: welcome to the craziest fandom on Earth! I'm sooo sorry it's taken me this long to update, 'specially since so many of you complimented me on being punctual! I really wish I could say that this chapter signals a return to normalcy, but sadly I have major surgery in about 12 hours, and I may be incapacitated for quite some time. I'm sorry! Do not fear, though; I shall not give up on this fic! Lots of holiday luuurve, darlings!

Also, random comment pertaining to this chapter: Arguments always take place in kitchens. Is it because of the convenience of knives?

~*~

Some hours later, Wikus awoke slowly as the midmorning sunlight crept through the picture windows. He opened his eyes gradually and rubbed the sleep from them before glancing up at Christopher. The prawn was still asleep, the gills on his broad neck moving evenly. Wikus let his head fall gently back onto the alien's chest, sighing. Chris' arms came up unconsciously and wound around the human, pulling him closer. Wikus 'hmmm'ed lazily, enjoying the creature's body warmth.

The door clicked open.

Wikus started to sit up, hoping it was just the kid, but-

-there was a gasp, and the door shut quickly.

"Oh, fook." He wrestled his way out of the blankets (and Chris' arms) and scrambled over to the entrance, wrenching the door open again and bolting into the hallway just in time to catch a glimpse of Tania as she vanished down the stairs.

"Fook, fook, fook!" He went stumbling after her. "Wait – Tania, I – wait!" Any second now, the front door would slam and she would be on her way to MNU to tell them that she'd been mistakenly sheltering an alien-fucking outlaw. "Shit! Tania, wa-" He came to a sudden halt when she spun around in front of the refrigerator to face him.

"You going to try to explain this?" She demanded angrily. "It'd better be a good fucking explanation, Wikus!" He almost flinched; he'd never heard her swear more than the occasional 'damn' or 'shit'. She took no notice. "I didn't believe them, you know, when they showed me those pictures. I believed _you_. Remember? I-I got over the videos, Wikus. You didn't realize what you were doing. But I saw those photos and I thought, god, that's just too much. That's not real. And now I find out that you really _were_-?"

"No!" He cut her off, desperately trying to explain. "Tania, look, when you saw those pictures – those _weren't real_. They _weren't_. I'd never done anything like that-"

"But you have now?" Her voice was dark and dangerous and barely controlled, like a mamba in a cage. "Jesus, Wikus, is that – is _that_ why he kept you safe? So he could have you as some kind of – of _sex slave_? Did he fucking _rape_ you?" Her eyes filled with shock and a new kind of horrified revulsion. He shook his head frantically.

"No! No, Tania, god, no! Fook, if anything, _I_-" he stopped himself, but she picked up on what he hadn't said anyway, and her gave, which had been prepared to offer pity, suddenly became hard and accusing.

"'If anything, you-' what? _You_ raped _him_? Fucking hell, Wikus, what-"

He interrupted her again before she could go any further in her indictment. "No, it wasn't – it wasn't like that; we both-" _What? We both wanted it? How can I say that when I don't even know if it's true? How can I expect her to understand?_ "We just…Chris is…he's different, you can tell that just from meeting him; it wasn't just…it was – we were – he's – I mean, I…it was only the one time, but then last night, I…I was being an idiot, and I – but he – I just didn't-" he knew he wasn't making any kind of sense anymore; that he was babbling and that she wouldn't have a clue what he was going on about, but he couldn't stop the words pouring out of him until she held up a hand.

"Wikus," she began in her 'let-me-get-this-straight' voice. "Are you trying to say that you're…in love with him?"

He was silent for a long time. "I…" His throat felt raw and hoarse. He closed his eyes as he felt the words escape. "I am, yes." He was surprised by how easily it slipped out, this confession that was probably the worst sin any religion could dream up. His eyes opened slowly, expecting her look of abhorrence. Instead, she bore a neutral, almost thoughtful expression. Her arms crossed in front of her chest, she held his gaze a moment, then nodded.

"Alright," she said calmly. "I'm not…I'm not sure how I feel about this yet. I need to…I'm gonna go out for a bit. I just need to think." She turned away, still pensive, and walked to the front door. "There's food in the fridge; I should be back in about…I don't know. I'll be back later. Just…just, whatever, work things out between yourselves. Should I take Oliver with me?"

"Uh…" Wikus was distantly aware of slight noises from upstairs; the familiar shuffling and footsteps of someone getting out of bed. He made himself form sentences. "I, uh, don't think Christopher would really – he doesn't like to trust other people with the kid. It's nothing personal; it just comes from living in the district."

"Right." She nodded again. "Okay. I understand. Later, then."

"Yeah." He watched as she left, feeling that he should say something more, but unsure of what he could say without fucking everything up. He opened his mouth, then closed it as she shut the front door. In the distant background of the upper level of the house, he heard a faint_ fwoosh_ and a rushing sound.

The sound of running water. Two and two clicked together.

Christopher was in the shower.

"Oh, fooking…" He groaned, casting guilty glances toward the door and back up the stairs. _How the fuck am I supposed to be able to hold a coherent conversation with him if he's all…_He shivered as his mind automatically threw images of the alien, exoskeleton shining and glossy with warm water, clouds of steam rising off him… He growled in frustration and conflict. Looked up at the flight of stairs. "Oh, fook this." He charged up the stairs.


	6. Everything's Just Prawnderful

Sound the gongs and ring the bells, my children! The boys are back in town, the boys are back in town! I have returned to you from the bowels of hell! (I tend to be at my most productive fic-wise when schoolwork looms. Coincidence? Um, no. Not really. I'm lazy.) Sorry it took so long; here is some smut to make you happy once more! Be sure to review, my lambs! (Oh hell, I have turned into The Bailiff. And if you know who the fook I'm talking about you get many prizes.)

Wikus remembered, halfway up the stairs, that Oliver was probably still asleep, and that if he hoped to get anywhere with Chris he should do his best to prevent the kid from waking and disrupting any...activities. He softened his footsteps, trying to be simultaneously stealthy and swift. The door to the bathroom loomed ahead, seeming in his mind to emit a golden, heavenly light like a beacon. He stumbled toward it, his mouth dry, and slowly, almost reverently, pushed the door open.

The air in the small room was thick with steam, fogging the mirror and blurring Wikus' reflection as he glanced at it. The shower was still running, and apparently Chris hadn't heard the human enter; no sound came from behind the closed curtain other than rushing water.

Wikus drew a breath. "Chris?" He spoke a little too softly; he cleared his throat and tried once more. "Christopher?"

A pair of antennae stuck up from the other side of the pastel, fish-patterned drapery. "Wikus?" The clicks were hesitant. A hand emerged to draw back the curtain. Wikus held his breath.

The alien was indeed dripping, sleek and shiny with warm water, and in one secondary hand he held a loofah, which would have been hilarious if Wikus hadn't been too busy ogling him. Unfortunately for the human, in his other three hands he held...

"Oh, uh...hi, Oliver," Wikus said in a surprisingly calm voice, despite the screaming, thwarted agony in his brain (and trousers).

"Good morning, Uncle Wikus. Are you gonna shower, too?"

"I, uh..." Wikus kept his eyes carefully trained on the curtains.

Christopher set his child down and wrapped a towel around him. "Go to your room and dry off, Little One."

"Okay," the diminutive Poleepkwa scurried toward the door, towel dragging along the floor behind him. "Is it Uncle Wikus' turn to wash? Are you gonna wash him, too?"

"Hnnk--" Wikus clutched the towel rack, his on his feet as he tried to shut down his vivid imagination.

"We are just going to talk," Chris responded. The little alien nodded and closed the door. A moment later they heard the door to his room click shut.

"I was, eh, hoping he was still asleep," Wikus muttered nervously, glancing up.

The extraterrestrial doused himself in liquid soap and began scrubbing briskly, as if he were eager to finish and get out. "Why is that?"

The human stared bleakly at him. "What d'you mean, 'why'? So I-- s-so we..." his eager eyes followed the alien's sudsy hands as they travelled along the gleaming carapace, bubbles lodging themselves into the soft crevices between plates. Of course, Christopher seemed as oblivious as always to his effect on the former MNU worker. "Jesus, Chris." Wikus' voice cracked and his mouth went bone-dry once more.

The tall being cocked his head in that quizzical manner that Wikus had come to know. "What?"

"I...you-- you, um, missed a spot."

Christopher looked down at himself in consternation. "Where?"

Wikus stepped into the spacious shower, took hold of the hand that held the sponge, and pressed it to his own, still-clothed chest. "Right here." He slid the hand lower, leaving his shirt soaking. "And here." Lower. "And here."

Christopher shivered and stepped back, pulling Wikus under the jet of hot water as he reached behind them and yanked the curtain shut. The hand holding the loofah began to move, voluntarily rubbing soapy water across the human's belly. Wikus groaned appreciatively and sucked at a soft, exposed spot on the prawn's throat.

"Your- your garments are- _hkk_- getting drenched," Christopher pointed out.

"Mm, yeah, can't have that, can we?" Wikus lapped at the alien's clavicle. "Best get 'em off, then, yeah?" He slipped the sponge from the Poleepkwa's weakening grip.

Christopher complied eagerly, almost tearing off one of Wikus' shirt sleeves in the process. Soon shirt, pants and briefs lay sodden and forgotten at the bottom of the stall. Chris' mouthparts writhed down Wikus' neck, across his chest.

"_Aah, Christopher, fook_." In a moment of mad inspiration, Wikus took the sponge, pressed it between the alien's legs right on the swollen slit that hid his reproductive organs, and squeezed all the water out, jetting it into the opening.

Christopher squirmed and made a sound that translated into something like, "Phwooaar!"

The human grinned victoriously as he felt the slit widen and the prawn's large, ridged member push out. He ran a thumb down its length, then rubbed urgently at the tight entrance under it. Instantly, he felt Chris tense. Hastily, he withdrew the digit and looked up at the prawn's face, gauging his reaction. The alien was panting, mouthparts twisting anxiously, eyes screwed shut as he held himself still. The human cursed at himself. _Slower_, he told himself, _don't fuck it up like you did the first time by just jumping in and not taking him into consideration_. Gently, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on the creature's weaving mouth.

"Sorry," he murmured against Chris' flesh. "I wasn't thinking."

"It's- it's fine," Christopher clicked. "I just...wasn't prepared." He opened his eyes and reached up to run a hand through Wikus' damp hair before suddenly dropping to his knees in front of the human.

"Wha-" Wikus began, only to be silenced by the sensation of writhing, slippery tendrils exploring his groin. "Ohhhh fook, Chris, _fook_, don't stop--"

The Poleepkwa wound his mouthparts around Wikus' erection, pumping as he engulfed it. Desperate to reciprocate in some manner, the former MNU worker stroked one of the prawn's antennae with the sponge, earning a moan that reverberated through his cock and along his entire nervous system. With a strangled, throaty cry he came into the soft, moist heat.

Christopher swallowed, rose, and quickly caught his former houseguest before he could collapse. "Are you alright?" He asked concernedly, propping Wikus against the shower wall. "Did I hurt you?"

"Holy...shit...Chris," Wikus said raggedly, trying to see through a haze of dazed pleasure. "That...fook. Fook, that was good." He blinked once or twice, clearing his head, then slowly lifted his head to stare Chris up and down. The Poleepkwa's arousal was still quite apparent, and as he titled his head to meet the human's gaze, Wikus saw that hunger, that carefully controlled need that hid just under the surface. He growled, suddenly recovered, and launched himself at the prawn. They hit the wall together, Wikus already nuzzling into Chris' soft skin, licking stray drops of water and sweat from his carapace. The human began kissing his way up Christopher's neck, his hands fumbling along the narrow hips and sides. Chris made an encouraging noise and clutched at him.

"I...I have to admit..." He bucked as Wikus fondled his antennae, sending shivers down his spine. "I...when I woke this morning and- _oh_- f-found you gone, I-I was worried that you'd...reconsidered. Changed your- _ahh_- yes, there, _oh_- ch-changed your mind..."

"Don't be daft," Wikus nibbled at the corner of Christopher's jaw. "That was just...kind of a situation I had to deal with...um...see, Tania came in and saw us and-"

"What?"

Wikus was suddenly pushed away, much to his dismay, and at that same instant the water went cold. He yelped and jumped back, shutting off the tap. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean, she 'saw us'?" Christopher asked, his voice edged with steel.

"Uhh...y'know, she just walked in on us sleeping and got kind of fooked off at me-"

"Let me see if I understand," The prawn intoned. "She is mad at you because she found out that you have had relations with me, and you thought that the best choice of action would be for us to _have sex in her shower_."

"I- whuh- uh, I didn't really...that wasn't my exact line of thinking, no." Wikus responded somewhat lamely. Regrouping his thoughts, he tried to explain. "She was angry at first, but I talked to her and she...she sort of calmed down and-and was alright and--"

"Alright? What could you have possibly said to make her 'alright' with such a discovery?"

"I-I just explained to her that I..."

_Wikus, are you trying to say that you're...in love with him?_

_I...I am, yes._

"I..." Dammit all, he just couldn't say it to Chris' face, he was just too much of a coward to actually say it. "I just told her about how...close we'd gotten, and how you'd saved me so many times, and she kind of...understood."

Christopher still looked skeptical, but he stepped out of the shower and handed Wikus a towel before taking one for himself. Wikus dried as quickly as possible, marveling for what must have been the thousandth time at just how fucking good a shower felt (and the incredible sensation of that mouth...). Christopher remained silent, seemingly pensive, the whole time, and as the Poleepkwa turned to leave the room, the human caught him around the waist. "Chris."

Before the alien could respond, Wikus pressed his lips to the soft tendrils of Chris' mouth. Pulling back, he reaffirmed, "It's okay, Christopher. Really. It's... it'll be alright."

Apparently no longer in the mood to argue, Christopher simply nodded, looking at Wikus with that familiar warmth in his gaze.


End file.
